We're Alive...some of us.
The sky is blue, blotted with white clouds that looked as if they were whipped and dropped there. There are flowers planted neatly in little circles around a triple flag-pole and cement surrounds it. The sidewalk is even and the various trees are mostly green, although a few have shades of purple in it.
The year is 2008, and it's just another day we take for granted.
Considering that most people write to express thoughts, sort out thier demons, or to document an episode in our 'modern' life, it occurs to me that even less of us stop to write about what we assume people already know about where we are, or how the little piece of earth we occupy looks, how the people act, and what drives everything to be as it was or is.
Some of us are alive, but for how long? And how many of us have forgotten how to simply just live? Will any of it matter in 5 years? 10? 50?
I don't want to forget to live.
The year is 2008, and it's just another day we take for granted.
Considering that most people write to express thoughts, sort out thier demons, or to document an episode in our 'modern' life, it occurs to me that even less of us stop to write about what we assume people already know about where we are, or how the little piece of earth we occupy looks, how the people act, and what drives everything to be as it was or is.
Some of us are alive, but for how long? And how many of us have forgotten how to simply just live? Will any of it matter in 5 years? 10? 50?
I don't want to forget to live.